Chekov & McCoy: An Enterprise Affair
by RussianDoctor
Summary: A journey into the secret relationship of Pavel Chekov and Leonard McCoy onboard the USS Enterprise. A day-to-day look at different aspects of their relationship over time. *Pavel Chekov/Leonard (Bones) McCoy*
1. Chapter 1

_Note: Each chapter starts with a notation on how long the two have been together. Also, I do not own any of the characters in this story. All credit goes to the actors and Gene Roddenberry, creator or Star Trek._

**_Chapter One:  
_****Three weeks in:**

We meet the couple of McCoy and Chekov at 4:00 AM. The day starts early on the USS Enterprise, and this couple has to get up even earlier. McCoy wakes up naturally at this time, not taking the risk of an alarm clock that could wake up any neighbors. He looks over at his partner in bed beside him. The curly haired Russian is sleeping soundly, his light snores rhythmically purring on. McCoy has to be out of Chekov's quarters by the time the first working shift starts. No one on board knows of their relationship, sometimes and good thing, other times not. Chekov being the youngest member on board at only 18 and McCoy being older than most of the crew, it has always seemed best to keep it a secret.

McCoy's stirring awakens Chekov, who greets him with droopy eyes.

"Hallo, Sir." He says. His Russian accent never fails to put joy into McCoy's heart.

"I've got to go, Pavel, but I'll see you on my first break."

McCoy leans down and plants a quick kiss on Chekov's forehead. Then he adds,

"And how many times have I told you that I don't need to be called sir in the bedroom?"

Chekov gives a slight chuckle then rolls over to go back to sleep. McCoy silently puts his shirt from last night back on and exits the room, heading back to his own. McCoy starts his first working shift the earliest time on board, so no one is out and about as he walks down the passages back to his quarters. Once there, he takes a shower and when he hears crew members moving around outside, heads to sick bay for another days work.


	2. Chapter 2

_Notes: I do not own any of the characters in this story. _

_**Chapter 3:  
**_**Two and a half months in:**

It'd be a lie to say that McCoy and Chekov didn't see each other during working hours. McCoy spent a fair amount of time away from sick bay, because of how close he was to everyone on the bridge. Every second he spent on the bridge, he was glancing at Chekov. The little Russian was just so adorable when he was deep in concentration. Although to be honest, most of the time Chekov was staring right back at McCoy, thinking of what they would do when the next recreational hours came about.

Today, the Enterprise is on a rare break, in between any current missions or journeys. Jim is lounging around on the bridge. He could be in his quarters but doesn't like leaving the bridge during working hours.

"Kirk to sick bay," He says over the com.

"McCoy here, what do you want Jim?"

"Come over to the bridge, Bones. We're all bored out of our minds."

Truth be told, Jim is the only one bored. The others found productive things to do in their spare time. But, regardless, McCoy is bored too, and gladly takes the invitation.

Of course, Chekov hears Jim call up McCoy and immediately perks up when the lift door swooshes open. He glances over at McCoy who is, not surprisingly, looking right back at him.

McCoy engages in some small talk with Jim, just to keep Jim happy, but his main interest is Chekov They are both looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Chekov, looking bright eyed and innocent, McCoy looking dark and mysterious. McCoy is undressing the Russian with his eyes, imagining how he will touch him, caress him, later that day.

Jim gets annoyed that the conversation is quite one-ended and seeks a response from McCoy.

"How's sick bay been going these days, Bones?" … "Hello?" … "Bones?" … "Leonard?!"

McCoy snaps out of the sexual trace Chekov has him in and realizing Jim saw how distracted he was, blushes deeply. This causes Chekov, who can't help but feel embarrassed for his lover, to blush, too.

"Uh yeah Jim, good. In fact, I should be, er, getting back there now."

Feeling uncharacteristically flustered, McCoy quickly turns around and enters the lift. But not before he gives Chekov a wink, implying what would be in store that night.


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: No plagiarism intended. Also, try to imagine Chekov talking with his Russian accent. I tried to type it that way, but it looked strange so I changed it to normal. Comment if you would prefer me to type the Russian accent out (v's and w's switched and stuff like that) _

**_Chapter 3:  
_****Four months in:**

McCoy and Chekov didn't fight much, but when they did, it was because McCoy was worried about his lover. McCoy had been uneasy about certain things since day one of their relationship, seeing that Chekov was only 18. One of the biggest problems was Chekov's drinking. He didn't drink an absurd amount, and certainly never on duty or during an important mission, but when he and McCoy went over to the bar onboard, he couldn't help himself. Today is one of those days.

It is late, nearly 11:00, and both men are on their sleeping shift. It isn't unusual for crew members to go to the bar during sleeping hours. McCoy has already had a bit to drink, only beers, but enough to get him feeling tipsy. And Chekov has been drinking at an equal pace, only he prefers vodka. McCoy was always overly aware that Chekov was under aged while he drank, and it secretly bothered him.

Chekov can never hide being drunk, especially from McCoy, who has seen it too many times. His Russian accent thickens and he slurs his words quite a lot. He gets touchier, the alcohol clouding his fear of being seen on McCoy.

"I'm having a great time, McCoy," the Russian slurs.

"Pavel," McCoy hisses at a whisper. "I think you ought to slow down on that vodka. I'm breaking the law just being with you, I shouldn't be letting you drink."

"Oh Doctor, You worry too much! I can handle the drinks!"

Chekov places his hand on McCoy's shoulder, gently rubbing the older man's back.

"Not here, kid! Are you crazy! Someone's going to see us!"

Chekov wasn't stopping, though. The alcohol had severely impaired his judgment skills. McCoy can't risk being seen, and isn't exactly pleased with his lover for getting himself so hopelessly drunk. He pulls Chekov out of his seat, out of the bar, and drags him all the way back to the Russian's quarters. Chekov puts up a weak struggle, but finds himself too weak and drunk to argue with McCoy.

As the two enter the room, McCoy throws Chekov onto his bed. Chekov stumbles and lands on the bed with a thud. McCoy walks to the bathroom and comes back with a cup full of cold water. Chekov yells "No!" a split second before the doctor throws the water on his face. Drenched, but considerably more sober, the Russian looks up at McCoy, a scowl on his face.

"What was that for?!"

"Look, Pavel, you should know better than to drink that much! I can't keep taking care of you!"

"Good! I don't need you to! I may be the youngest one aboard, but I'm still an adult! I can take care of myself!"

"Fine then. I guess you don't need me here tonight. I'll just leave."

"Sure! Leave! What do I care?!"

So McCoy leaves without as much as a backward glance. But two hours later, unable to sleep even in his own quarters, he returns to Chekov's room. McCoy silently walks through the door and finds the light to Chekov's bathroom on. The poor Russian was puking the alcohol and bad memories out of his system. McCoy quietly walks up to Chekov and squats down beside him. He places a hand on the younger man's back and whispers in his ear, "Everything is going to be fine. I'm here for you."

Chekov instinctively flinches, but upon hearing his lovers soothing voice, leans into McCoy's arms.

"I'm so sorry, Leonard." Chekov manages to get our even though his head was pounding. "You were right … Like always."

"None of that matters right now. Let's get you cleaned up and into bed."

So the lovers ended the night sleeping in each other's happy embrace on Chekov's bed. At least fights between the two didn't last very long.


	4. Chapter 4

_Note: No plagiarism intended.  
My deep apologies of some of the scheduling goes against anything cannon in TOS. To be honest, I simply made this up to explain things I have said in previous chapters. I hope it makes well enough sense. _

**Chapter 4:**

Let's take this time to explain the schedule on the USS Enterprise. Crew members work on shifts in an alternating work, break, work, sleep pattern. The times for when these shifts start are categorized into 6 staggered groups, so that the whole crew is never on break at the same time. The groups are group A, B, C, D E, and F. No matter what group you are in, the shifts are always the same length. Six hours of work, 4 hours of break, 6 more hours of work, and 8 hours of sleep. Here is group A's schedule:

4:30-10:30 Working shift  
10:30-2:30 Recreational Break  
2:30-8:30 Working shift  
8:30-4:30 Sleep

The next group, B, follows the same pattern only one hour later. The same goes for C, D, and E. Group F, unfortunate as they are, have their schedules flipped; their working shifts occur while most everyone else is sleeping.

McCoy is a group A, and Chekov a group B. Quite fortunate for them that their schedules line up so well, so they get most of their break time together.

In case you wanted to know, Jim is an A, Spock and Sulu are B's, and Scotty and Uhura are C's.

The schedule may seem a bit extreme, but everyone on the Enterprise is fully accustomed to it and follows it obediently.


	5. Chapter 5

_Note: No plagiarism intended.  
Unlike the previous chapters, I switched to past tense in the middle of this one. Most likely I will continue to do it this way from now on._

**Chapter 5:  
****_Three and a half months in:_**

One thing that Chekov and McCoy have in common is how good they are at their jobs. No matter what is going on between the two, their main focus is the Enterprise and her ongoing mission. Chekov has made a name for himself, successfully teleporting moving targets back onto the ship at the age of only 17. McCoy graduated from Starfleet Academy at the top of his class, and has been serving admirably as the Enterprise's chief medical officer since then. The two know that their loyalty to the ship comes before their loyalty to each other. This is why they can handle situations such as this:

McCoy had been called to join the landing party along with Jim and two men from lower decks. They beamed down nearly twenty minutes ago, but still no reports had been made back to the ship. Spock didn't seem to be worrying, although who could really tell what he was thinking? Anyways, Chekov had been through countless missions like this before. He learned not to stress, knowing that whatever happened, Jim wouldn't leave a crew member, especially McCoy, behind.

Ten minutes later, Kirk's voice rang through his communicator onto the Enterprise.

"We need to be beamed right now, Scotty. We were just chased a mile downstream by some giant nasty insects. They could still be close."

"Aye, sir!" Replied Scotty as he beamed them back aboard.

Chekov, currently on the bridge, heard the exchange over the com. He awaited the return of the landing party eagerly. However, when only three men, Jim and the two other crew members, walked onto the bridge, Chekov felt a stab of panic shoot through him.

"Where is doctor McCoy, Captain?" Inquired Spock.

"Don't worry, Commander, Bones is most likely fine. He stayed back to get some extra blood samples before the insects found us. If anything we lead the insects away from the Doctor."

Low and behold, a second later McCoy called to be beamed up, seemingly unaware that there was any danger on the planet.

Chekov quickly settled down, silently ashamed that he let his attachment to McCoy almost affect his work. But, he didn't let his emotions overwhelm him, and for this he was proud of himself.

After work shift was done, Chekov met with McCoy in the Doctor's quarters.

"How did the mission go?" Chekov asked while snuggling up to his lover in bed.

"Fine. Apparently Jim and the others got into more trouble than I did."

"You know, I worried when you did not beam aboard with the rest of the party."

"Oh, Pavel, you shouldn't. You know I'm fine."

"But what would I do if I lost you, Leonard?"

"Try not to think about it too much, Kid."

And with that the two feel peacefully asleep. So maybe Chekov doesn't hold his work that much above his lover, but at the end of the every day, he has his doctor, and McCoy has his Russian.


	6. Chapter 6

_Note: No plagiarism intended_

**Chapter 6:  
****_Two weeks in:_**

It only took two weeks for Chekov to realize that he was completely lost as to what the standards to his relationship with McCoy were. He had known from the beginning that it was built on rather shaky foundations, and he had no idea how McCoy felt about the whole thing. It was an unspoken truth that the affair had to be kept secret, and Chekov understood that, but not much more. So he decided to confront the doctor about it.

The two met in Chekov's quarters as soon as the Russian got off his last working shift. They would usually dive straight to the bed, but today Chekov had other things on his mind.

"Leonard, I want to talk about… us."

"Well, sure Kid. Ask anything you'd like."

Chekov thought for a moment and then asked, "Am I your boyfriend?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Chekov regretted them. He was trying to ask about how intense the relationship was, but instead the question sounded naïve and childish.

"I tend to think of you as my… my lover."

"Does that mean you love me?"

McCoy's smile slowly faded into a more serious look and he sat down on the bed beside Chekov, wrapping his arm around the Russian's shoulder.

"Do you love me?" the older man asked.

Chekov opened his mouth, but shut it quickly. He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration.

"Look, Pavel, I've loved and even lost before. I understand and can control my emotions. You however… well you're only 18. I don't want to hurt you in any way, so I want you to tell me what you want out of our relationship."

Chekov considered his options for a moment. He wasn't sure if it was love he felt for McCoy or lust. His 18 year old sex drive certainly played a part in his feelings, but he wanted more. Maybe he didn't love the Doctor yet, but he wanted to. Yes, he wanted, needed to love Leonard. So, Chekov made his response.

"I want our relationship not to be based simply on sex. I don't know how well I can handle something deeper, but you're the only person I want to try it with. I want a love filled relationship."

McCoy was happy with the response. He might have secretly been hesitant to explore such emotion with someone so much younger, but he certainly didn't show it. He was pretty sure Chekov could handle it.

"I think I can provide exactly what you're looking for."

McCoy set a delicate kiss on the Russians curly head. After a few seconds Chekov sharply pulled away.

He looked up into McCoy's eyes and said, "That doesn't mean I don't want the sex, though."

McCoy chuckled and pulled his lover in for a deep, rough kiss.

So the two do end up making lust filled love on Chekov's bed, but they are both pleased to know that they understand each other's views and wants. They both know that they can get serious, drop their guards, and let their lover into their hearts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:  
****_Seven months in:_**

There were certain regulations that Jim simply could not comply with. One of those being that it was not allowed to celebrate any planet specific holidays on board a space craft with life forms from other planets on board. So, when Christmas came around, Jim had the bridge decked in green and red, regardless of what Starfleet had to say. No one on board objected to the celebration, despite Spock's comments on how "Illogical" a holiday of this sort was, so Jim figured it was fine.

McCoy and Chekov quite liked that Jim celebrated Christmas on the Enterprise. Christmas held many sweet memories from childhood for the both of them. It was the second Christmas they had experienced on the ship, and the first one celebrated as a couple. Jim didn't require the exchanging of gifts, even he thought that would be taking it too far, but he certainly didn't discourage it. McCoy and Chekov had bought each other gifts the last time they visited a human colonized planet. They agreed that they wouldn't buy expensive or serious things, just light hearted presents. So, when they were both on break, they went to McCoy's quarters to exchange the gifts.

McCoy had done a bit of decorating too. There was mistletoe strategically placed above his door so that he had an excuse to kiss Chekov every time they entered the room. It was unlike him to get so excited at Christmas, but something about the holiday made McCoy perk up every year. Chekov certainly wasn't complaining. It was better than when Leonard pouted around all day.

After they stoped to kiss under the mistletoe, the two sat down on McCoy's bed, holding their presents behind their backs.

"You first," said McCoy.

Chekov handed McCoy the box. He grabbed the present and ripped the wrapping paper off with the intensity of a nine year old boy. Behind the paper was a flimsy box. He took the top off and looked down upon his present, a giant grin on his face. It was a knitted sweater. McCoy pulled it out of the box and held it up to himself. It was beige with a grey stripe around the center. There were reindeer prancing in a circle through the stripe knitted in black.

"You got me an ugly Christmas sweater! I love it!"

McCoy moved closer to Chekov, putting his hand on the Russian's chin.

"And I love you."

He kissed Chekov softly and lovingly.

Chekov pulled away after a few seconds and said, "Now where's my present?!"

McCoy reached behind him and gave Chekov the box. Chekov shook it up and down. But not hearing much decided to just go ahead and open it. He ripped the paper off and took the top off the box inside. He however, was not smiling at what he saw. A look of horror crossed his face and he slowly looked up at McCoy who was failing to hold back his laughter.

"You got me a…"

"Say it, Pavel!"

"You got me a… a… a dildo!"

Chekov couldn't believe McCoy had purchased something like this. But, that didn't stop it from being funny. He burst out laughing, causing McCoy to do the same. What an odd sight it must have been, the two men sitting laughing, while one was holding a purple, sparkly dildo.

"Guess what?!" McCoy said in between laughs. "It vibrates!"

This sent the two lovers over the edge. They didn't stop laughing until their chests hurt.

When they had finally calmed down Chekov smiled and said, "Thank you, Leonard, for such a wonderful gift."

"You're damn right it's a wonderful gift. And you're welcome."

Before long, it was time for Leonard to report back to Sick Bay. But before he left Chekov called to him.

"Leonard!"

"Yes?"

"Will you wear your sweater? For me?"

McCoy hesitated. Jim would definitely laugh his ass off when he saw McCoy, but to please Chekov he would wear it. So he put it on, blushed slightly when he looked in the mirror, and walked back to sick bay.

Christmas was definitely going well for the two lovers.

_Authors Note: Bones, how rude of you! Making me type something so crude and risqué! No but seriously, this is the first thing I thought McCoy might get Chekov. Thumbs up for Cute!McCoy loving Christmas time! More Christmas experiences coming next chapter!_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:  
****_The night of Chapter 7:_**

Well, McCoy was right. He certainly did get laughed at by Jim, and in fact everyone on the bridge. His eyes might have been deceiving him, but he thought he even saw Spock smile. Luckily, he passed it off as an old sweater he got from a family member years ago. He thought it might sound a bit fishy to say that it was actually from Chekov.

But regardless, he wore it through his second working shift. Jim had been planning a Christmas party for about a week, and he let everyone who planned to attend off at 8:00. McCoy met up with Chekov so they could arrive at the party at the same time.

The whole party was a blast. Everyone from the bridge came, even Spock, and there must have been over 100 other crewmen all in that one recreation room. There was music, dancing, laughing, and drinking. A lot of drinking. Chekov and McCoy were both smashingly drunk only two and a half hours in. It was hard to stay away from each other, especially with the alcohol, but they couldn't risk being seen touching each other in front of so many people. So, when the two lovers couldn't take it anymore, they slipped out of the party, one after the other as to not draw attention, and rushed back to Chekov's quarters.

As soon as McCoy entered the room, Chekov was on him. His lips smashed into the older man's and the Russian's hands went around McCoy's waist. McCoy pushed back, smashing Chekov into the opposite wall. The doctor's hands went to his lover's chest, and he slipped his tongue into Chekov's mouth. Chekov returned the action, their tongues sloppily dancing, intertwined with the others.

McCoy ripped Chekov's shirt off over his head, forcing them to break the kiss for a moment. But, as soon as they could, they were right back in each other's mouths. McCoy grabbed one of the Russians nipples, getting a soft moan out of him. He could feel the younger man getting hard against his leg.

"Bed," Chekov shakily breathed.

"Yes sir."

Chekov pounced onto the bed and McCoy followed. But before he got onto the bed, Chekov stopped him.

"Strip. Now."

"Yes sir, again."

And McCoy did exactly as he was told. He stripped down to his bare skin.

"I never took you as the dominant type, Pavel."

"You're right. I'm not. Come here and take me, Leonard!"

McCoy attacked the Russian, ripping off his shirt and pants. Chekov grabbed for McCoy's cock, stroking it lightly while the two continued to make out. McCoy broke the kiss to move down Chekov's body. He placed kisses followed by gentle bites down the younger man's neck, onto his collarbone, and all the way down to the top of his underwear. Chekov couldn't help the lust filled moans that escaped his mouth. McCoy took the briefs in his mouth and dragged them down off the Russian's legs. He unveiled Chekov's beautiful dick, already glistening with pre-cum. He lightly tongued the tip of his dick, making Chekov squirm beneath him.

"Fuck, Leonard. Just take it all!"

McCoy obeyed, swallowing the Russian's cock in his open mouth. He pumped his head, deep throating Chekov until he almost gagged. He looked up at his lovers face. Chekov was overwhelmed by the pleasure, his eyes were closed and his hands were gripping McCoy's hair.

"I'm… I'm going to-"

McCoy suddenly drew back.

"Not yet, you're not."

He crawled back up to kiss Chekov again before saying, "Pavel, go and get your Christmas present like a good little Russian boy."

Chekov reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out the brand new purple dildo. McCoy grabbed it from his lover's hands and flipped him over on the bed.

"Now get on your knees and get ready for the second part of your Christmas present."

Let's just say that the two lovers got good use out of McCoy's present to Chekov. They ended the night in an exhausted heap on the bed.

Just before drifting to sleep, McCoy whispered, "Merry Christmas, darling."

And Chekov responded, "Рождеством Христовым, доктор."

_Author's note: Well, now you see the real me. I'll try not to do too many intense ones like this. Although, it is rated M for a reason. Leave a review if you want more or less perverted writing. Oh, and in case you are to lazy to translate, the last line says "Merry Christmas, Doctor."_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:  
****_One and a half months in:_**

McCoy and Chekov don't keep many secrets from each other. There are still secrets around their pasts, but other than that, it's hard to keep things from being discovered on such an intimate ship. There is one thing, though, that Chekov will not let anyone find out about him.

He is an eighteen year old boy, so it's natural for him to be self-conscious about how he looks. But that doesn't keep him from being embarrassed about it. Chekov was self-conscious about how self-conscious he was. Seems a bit backwards, huh? Anyways, it was obvious to him that he couldn't let anyone know how much work he put into his hair. And trust me that was a lot of work. His hair wasn't naturally so perfectly curly. It took product and time to get something to look that way. So, when something so unspeakably bad happened one day, Chekov almost couldn't bare it.

Although McCoy's working shift started an hour before his did, Chekov got up immediately after the older man left his quarters. He took a long, hot shower and got out, wrapped a towel around his waist, feeling refreshed and ready for the day. That only lasted a few moments though. He grabbed his comb, brushed out his hair, and reached for his special hair product. But, to his surprise and dismay, it was gone. Chekov felt his heart drop when he looked at spot on his bathroom counter where his stuff should've been. He had gotten that bottle at a market on an alien planet that the Enterprise had been sent on a diplomatic mission to about a year back. It was the only product he had been able to find that could control his curls so well. And now it was gone.

Chekov spent at least 40 minutes tearing his room apart looking for his hair stuff. By this time, he only had twenty minutes before his working shift started, and he wasn't even dressed yet. He had lost almost all hope and decided to give up for now and get ready for his shift. He got dressed, quite easy to do when you wear the same uniform every day, and walked into his bathroom. That is when Chekov nearly exploded. He glanced at the mirror, did a double take, and then stared at his reflection in horror. In his haste to find his product, he had neglected to do anything to his hair. Now he was paying the price. His curls were practically ringlets and they drooped awkwardly down the side of his head. The curls that usually stood beautifully over his forehead now slouched into his eyes in a wild mess. Chekov ran his hands through his horrible hair and muttered some Russian swears under his breath. He absolutely could not go onto the bridge looking like he did now. He crawled into his bed, still muttering to himself, and pulled the cover over his head. Maybe no one would notice he was gone…

But, to Chekov's displeasure, when it was fifteen minutes after his shift started and he hadn't reported to the bridge, he got a personal message right from the Captain.

"Chekov, this is the Captain speaking. If you're going to blatantly disobey the schedule, at least tell us first."

Chekov cringed at Jim's voice. The picture of his unruly hair haunted his thoughts and he couldn't quit imagining what his friends on the bridge would say, what McCoy  
would say.

But then Chekov stopped to think something he had never thought before. _What would Spock do?_ He wasn't sure if Spock could have a bad hair day with his cut, but regardless, he certainly wouldn't hide in his quarters just because he didn't like the way he looked. It definitely was illogical and even reckless. What if something terrible were to happen and they needed his help? Chekov made the decision then to face the world – not even the world, just the rest of the crew that he knew loved him no matter what his hair looked like – and responded back.

"Sorry, Captain. Lost track of time, but I will be their right away!"

And with that, Chekov bounded out of bed without a second glance at the mirror and skipped happily to the bridge.

He did get some ridicule, mainly from Jim (surprise, surprise) but he could take it because he knew that he had nothing to prove to these men. Chekov knew that everyone was focused on their mission, their exploration, not on how his hair happened to look that one day. And as it turned out, McCoy thought it was ridiculously adorable and wouldn't take his hands out of his lover's hair the whole night.

* * *

**Author's note: In the end, Chekov's product had accidently gotten mixed up with McCoy's discarded clothes and he returned it to Chekov the next morning. Chekov rejoiced and in return gave McCoy a giant kiss.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:  
****_five and a half months in:_**

Just like Chekov, McCoy had secrets in the relationship, too. Being more mature and experienced than Chekov, his secrets were more mature and experienced than his lover's. McCoy's secret was a personal one that he kept only from Chekov, because it only applied to his love life with the Russian. His secret was that, although he would never tell Chekov, he wasn't really gay.

As many of his friends, including Chekov knew, he had been married before he entered Starfleet. A lovely woman named Diana whom he was with for almost four years. However, any fond memories of her McCoy might have kept were ruined by the terribly messy divorce she insisted upon. She took everything, the house, the car, most of the money. McCoy had no choice but to join Starfleet.

But enough about his background. The point was that McCoy had been comfortably, confidently straight for so long, that he struggled considering himself as gay. He really couldn't even call himself bisexual, let alone homosexual. The truth was that he was still very much attracted to the opposite gender. He still had sexy space chick magazines that he jerked off to when Chekov wasn't around at night. He wasn't homosexual, he was what he liked to call Chekov-sexual. It wasn't men he was attracted to, it was just Chekov.

So, when the topic of sexuality somehow came up in conversation one day during break, McCoy didn't exactly know what to say.

"Who do you think out of all of us is most likely secretly gay?"

Of course it was Jim asking. He was reclining in one of the chairs in the recreation room his friends always hung out in, his feet crossed on the table. It was an hour before him and Bones would have to be back on the Bridge, so everyone was on break together.

Chekov responded first, because his response was an obvious one.

"I guess I don't count, Captain."

Chekov had no problem being openly gay. He had announced it to everyone pretty quickly after their first mission together. He gave McCoy a quick look and a goofy grin, getting a small chuckle out of the doctor, who was sitting slightly secluded from the rest of the group.

Scotty was the next to speak up.

"No one could possibly say Spock. Sorry, Chekov, but I assume he thinks being gay is 'not logical'. Do ya think that, Sir?"

"I do not think it is possible for a Vulcan to feel sexual attraction to the same sex. Pon Farr is naturally embedded into our systems. However, to avoid offending anyone here, I will say that, however being illogical, it is certainly not unacceptable."

Jim let out a snort and said, "Since when has not offending people been a top priority for you?"

"It always has, Captain. I just assume that my comments toward you do not offend."

Uhura answered next.

"Since I am the only woman here, I think I have the best answer. Being that I am female, I have a natural sense for those kinds of things."

"So who is it?" Jim eagerly asked. "You better not say me."

"Not you, Sir. I am pretty sure the one who is most likely to be gay is…McCoy."

Jim slammed his feet to the ground and stared at Uhura with giant, incredulous eyes.

"Bones!?"

Then his gaze switched over to McCoy, who, upon hearing his name had looked up and was now staring back at Jim.

"What do you have to say about this, Bones?"

"Well, I, er, I don't really know."

McCoy sincerely hoped he wasn't blushing right now.

Uhura, hoping she hadn't insulted McCoy, quickly added, "Sorry Leonard, you just give off that vibe. It's knowing that you used to be married and that you are so obviously masculine that makes you a likely candidate to be secretly gay."

"To tell the honest-to-god truth, I don't know what I am. Diana sort of messed up my sexuality in the divorce. Now all I am is an emotional mess."

Sulu, who had been quite until know, spoke up.

"An emotional mess? Hard to see that. If that's true then you hide it well. But, come on, you must know if you're gay or not."

McCoy considered everything that was going on. He knew that he wasn't really gay, and that he didn't want to say that he was front of everyone, but he also thought that saying he was straight might make Chekov nervous.

"Yeah, well, as far as I know I'm still straight. Sorry, Uhura, I guess your senses are a bit faulty."

McCoy glanced at Chekov, but he wasn't looking back. He hoped everything would be fine.

Well, to answer McCoy's question, Chekov brought the topic up that night. They were in McCoy's quarters and were snuggling in bed.

Chekov started the conversation asking, "You're not actually straight, right? Because then you wouldn't love me…"

McCoy lifted himself up a little so that he could look straight into his lover's eyes.

"What kind of question is that? First of all, Pavel, I love you so much that I'm offended that you would question it. Second, why does it matter that I have a specific title for who I'm attracted to?"

"Well, I suppose it doesn't. But will you just answer the question? Are you gay, Leonard?"

"I'm yours and that's all that matters."

McCoy leaned in and gave Chekov a light, loving kiss, ensuring what he said was true.

So, McCoy didn't really end up answering the question. He still got around it with his tricky words. But Chekov could tell that it was harder for the older man to feel something as definitive as being gay. And he could also tell that he was in fact McCoy's.

* * *

_Author's note: This one is sort of connected to the previous chapter, it being about secrets in the relationship. Sorry to all the Spock/kirk shippers reading this. I too hardcore ship Spirk but I kind of messed up any chance of that happening in my Star Trek world. Maybe Spock's human side is just so gay it overwhelms the Vulcan feelings._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:  
****_One week in:_**

When Chekov and McCoy's relationship started, McCoy was afraid that he wouldn't be able to keep up with an eighteen-year-olds sex drive. He was certainly more "practiced" in the subject than his lover, but definitely not more eager. Chekov was not a virgin the first time they made love, initially a surprise to McCoy, but after getting to know the frisky Russian, more believable. Chekov seemed to be, for lack of a more sophisticated word, horny all day long. McCoy was afraid he was going to have to deny his lover too much. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Being with Chekov seemed to have unlocked a new ferocious sex drive in the older man that he never knew he possessed. It only took a few intense nights for McCoy to realize this. He was always ready for some love with Chekov, and Chekov never hesitated to initiate it. But come on, there had to be some place to stop for the older man.

"Oh… Fuck, Pavel, this is amazing," McCoy moaned into his lover's mouth.

The two were in McCoy's quarters, standing on their knees facing each other on the bed. They both had the others dick in their hands and were pumping at a unison rhythm. They tried their best to stay on each other's lips, but both the men were so into it, it was hard to keep a kiss going for long.

"Ah – ah! I'm going to cum!"

And with that Chekov came hard. McCoy came a split second later with a loud moan. The white sticky substance coated the men's chest and all they could do for a few moments was lay down and pant. McCoy reached over for the box of tissues he kept by his bed, but before he could reach them Chekov glided over to the doctor and cleaned up his chest himself. McCoy did admit that Chekov's tongue felt much better than some tissues. He returned the favor when his Russian lover was done and they both slipped under the covers, foreheads touching, for some relaxing cuddles before they had to get back to work.

After several minutes of silence McCoy spoke up.

"Did you know this was the tenth time we've had sex this week, and it's only Thursday morning?"

"You've been keeping count, sir?"

"hmm, I guess I have."

"There is not a problem with that is there?"

"No, of course not. You have awoken a passion in me I didn't know was there. Good job, kid. I just don't want to run out of steam early."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you wouldn't want us to use up all of our desire within the first week, would you?"

"I don't think we will have that problem. Or at least, I won't."

At this McCoy shifted his head up and looked at Chekov in the eyes. He had raised his eyebrow in that way he does when he doesn't agree with something.

"Are you calling me old? Do you think I can't keep up with you?"

There was playfulness in his voice – he wasn't actually angry, although he might have felt a little challenged.

"N- No, sir. I would never say that!"

"I'm just kidding, Pavel. And stop calling me 'sir'. It may be erotic during sex, but it's just weird now."

"Yes, sir – I mean – Leonard."

They stayed in their position on the bed for another twenty minutes before McCoy had to leave to report back to sick bay. McCoy gave Chekov a last kiss in bed, got up, and went to pick up his uniform shirt off the ground where he had quickly discarded it an hour ago. When he bent down to pick it up, he heard a _snap_ as his back cracked. He let out a groan of pain and held his hand across his back. He looked over at Chekov, who had a playful smirk on his face.

The Russian questioned the aching doctor, "Are you sure your age isn't catching up, Leonard?"

McCoy frowned at the lucky young boy and replied, "Shut up, kid. Just you wait until your youth is gone and you can't jump around like a spazz anymore. Then I'll be the one laughing!"

Chekov let out a giggle as his lover put back on his shirt and walked out of the room. Chekov was pretty certain he would never get old.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:  
****_Four and a half months in:_**

Jim prides himself on knowing the birthdays of almost everyone on the ship. Those that he doesn't have memorized are written down on his calendar. On days when there is a birthday, which is pretty much every day on a ship with a crew of over 400 people, Jim announces their name over the com, and if he personally knows them well enough, will visit them sometime during the day. It effectively makes him very well liked among the crew. And that's really what Jim wants, for his crew to be happy and like him.

So, with birthdays so significant to Jim, it is massively important when a chief officer, and arguably his best friend's birthday comes around. That's right, today was McCoy's birthday. And he had to admit, it wasn't starting off very well.

Chekov had denied coming back to his quarters last night, saying that he was too tired, and McCoy was missing the Russians body next to him the next morning. He had woken up two hours early and, not being able to get back to sleep, had taken a shower and gotten ready for the day. Know it was a bit over an hour before he had to go anywhere. Not many people would be outside yet, him having the first working shift, so all he could do was sit in his room and wait.

He couldn't help but think that if Chekov was there, they would be having some great morning sex. Chekov always looked so beautiful in the morning, hair floppy, even though that bothered the hell out of Chekov, bare skin showing. Oh, and the amazing sounds that boy could make. McCoy had closed his eyes and when he opened them he had quite a noticeable bulge pressing against his pants. McCoy was pleased, eager even, to take care of this, jacking off to thoughts of his beautiful Russian lover. He came with Chekov's name on his lips, wishing he was there beside him.

By the time all of this was done, it was time for McCoy to report to Sick Bay, so he cleaned himself up and walked out of his quarters. However, when he arrived at Sick Bay, no one was there. No nurses, no patients, no Jim, no one. Quite confused, McCoy called over to the bridge.

"McCoy to Bridge. Jim, are you there? No one is at Sick Bay. It's literally empty."

Then he quickly added at a mumble, "Great way to treat me on my birthday."

"Captain to Sick Bay. Bones I think you should come over to the Bridge. There is something you might wasn't to see."

"What is it, Jim?"

"Just come and see, okay?"

McCoy, nervous but curious walked, over to the Bridge. On his way he noticed a distinct lack of people milling about like there usually was. He began to panic just a bit and sped up to get to the Bridge. He stopped right before the door and took a breath. What could possibly be waiting for him? He seemed to ask himself that question a lot, but this time, with no one in Sick Bay, it seemed more important. He walked through the door and-

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BONES!"

McCoy just stood there frozen in amazement for several seconds. The entire upper deck must have been in the Bridge. He could see all of his friends, Jim, Spock, and yes, Chekov. Everyone from Sick Bay was there, and everyone, even if he didn't know them, was smiling at him. There was a giant banner hanging around the ceiling that read "_Happy Birthday to our favorite Doctor!" _

Jim rushed up to him and ushered him into the crowd of people.

"Aren't you going to say something, Bones?"

"God dammit man, are you crazy? How hard was this to organize?!"

"Well, you're welcome anyways."

Everyone around him was wishing him a happy birthday he couldn't respond to them all.

"I've never seen so many people on the Bridge at one time before, Jim. This is amazing. Did you really do this all for me?"

Jim leaned into McCoy and whispered into his ear, "Of course I did. You're my best friend in the world and a hell of a great doctor. You deserve all of this."

Jim flashed him one of his amazingly charming smiles and pushed him towards a table with a bottle of bourbon on it. All of his friends were gathered around. He shook hands with all of them, Spock, Sulu, Uhura, Scotty, Chekov, desperately wanting to show how much he appreciated what they were doing.

Gesturing at the bottle of bourbon on the table, Jim explained that, "We couldn't get an actual cake in time, so we got your second favorite thing in the world."

The bottle had _Happy Birthday!_ And _29_ scrawled on it in sharpie. He applauded his friends at the effort.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let's open my "Birthday cake" and get drinking!"

Maybe they shouldn't have been drinking on duty, but no one brought it up, and no one had more than a couple of drinks. Eventually McCoy managed to get away from his other friends to go and talk to Chekov. They went to the outside edge of the crowd, and McCoy placed his hand lightly on his lover's hip, opposite from the crowd of people who might see them.

He leaned in a said, "Thanks for coming, Pavel."

"Of course I come. I wouldn't miss this for anything. Happy Birthday, Leonard."

"Let's get away from here. Go back to my quarters."

Chekov hummed his agreement and started around the back way to the door. McCoy went to find Jim and told him that he was slipping out but would be back soon.

He headed out the door and ran to catch up to Chekov. He pounced on the Russian from behind and pushed him against the wall of the corridor.

"Leonard, can't we at least get into your quarters first?"

But Chekov had his hands wrapped around McCoy's back, not really caring that they were out in the open. Everyone was still partying on the Bridge.

"It's my birthday. I get whatever I want and you can't argue."

He shoved his tongue into the Russians mouth, but before he could get anything going, Chekov squirmed out of his grip and ran down the hall.

"You're going to have to catch me first!"

It took a while, they stopped every few yards to make out, but Chekov eventually got his lover into his room and onto the bed.

So, McCoy's 29th birthday did end up being pretty amazing, no matter how it started. He was glad to be surrounded by the people who loved him and to be able to love the one that meant everything to him.

* * *

**Authors note: I'm not actually sure if McCoy has a set age, so I just made one up. He's obviously older then everyone else, and I assume Kirk is about 23. Sorry, if you don't like the ages.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:  
****_Eight months in:_**

Sex had always been just about the most fascinating thing in the galaxy to Chekov. It never failed to entertain him, to cheer him up. So, when sex suddenly became boring one night, Chekov began to panic.

The whole next day the Russian thought of what could have possibly gone wrong. It still felt good, hell it felt great, and he still had a strong finish, but it was just boring. Everything went according to plan, like a textbox example, but maybe that was the problem. For the first time in his life, regular sex just wasn't enough. So, on his next break he avoided McCoy and went straight to his own quarters and did some research. _Yes, this is just what I need, _thought Chekov as he hungrily looked over his computer screen.

That night McCoy came to Chekov's quarters. They started quickly, Chekov not wanting to waste any time. McCoy was sitting upright, leaning against the wall at the head of the bed. Chekov was straddling his waist, his hands on the older man's chest, his lips trailing across McCoy's jawline. He reached back with one hand into the waistband of his pants and pulled out what he had been hiding from McCoy. He took his lover's arm and moved it up toward the bedpost. McCoy felt something cold trail over his arm.

"What are you doing, Pavel?"

He tried to turn his head to see what was going on with his arm, but Chekov pushed McCoy's face back with his free hand.

Then, in one swift motion, Chekov had handcuffs around McCoy's wrist and chained to the bedpost.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Chekov leaned into his lover's ear and whispered, "Did you know that there is such thing as a restraining fetish?"

And with that he had McCoy's other hand cuffed to the same bedpost.

"Didn't know you had a fetish, kid."

"Neither did I"

Then Chekov was off. He was up and down McCoy's body with his hands, his tongue. McCoy's pants quickly came off, with no help from their owner who wasn't really in a position to help, and when Chekov started on his dick, McCoy let out a loud moan. That got Chekov's attention immediately.

"Oh, almost forgot something."

He took out a piece of fabric, shoved it into the older man's mouth and tied it off behind his head. That's right, he gagged McCoy.

McCoy tried his best to shout, but it came out as a strangled yelp. He could handle the handcuffs, but the gag was actually starting to frighten him.

"Oh Leonard, calm down. Everything will be fine. I did my research. Know how about you cooperate for me. Please?"

McCoy looked down at the giant tent in Chekov's pants. He clearly was enjoying this, so McCoy calmed down a bit.

Chekov leaned forward and kissed McCoy through the fabric. McCoy tried his best to kiss back, but it was a feeble attempt. Chekov loved the feeling of the gag while he kissed, couldn't get enough of it, and didn't break the kiss until McCoy started to fidget underneath him. When he leaned back, McCoy took a giant breath. Apparently Chekov needed to watch the air supply with that gag in his lover's mouth.

The next half an hour was the most exciting sex Chekov had ever had. When he and McCoy had both come, Chekov collapsed in an exhausted heap next to the older man, who was still bonded up. After a few moments of rest, Chekov noticed McCoy's tired panting and took the gag out of his mouth.

"I hope you enjoy-" McCoy started but was cut off by Chekov's lips.

"Thank you, Leonard."

Chekov smiled at McCoy, and McCoy smiled back. Then Chekov added, "And don't pretend like you didn't love that. I was watching your face."

McCoy blushed and mumbled something in agreement and then asked Chekov a question.

"Why did you decide to do this so suddenly?"

"I just wanted something more exciting tonight. And this was certainly exciting."

Chekov settled his head onto McCoy's chest and wrapped his arms around the older man's waist.

"Pavel, are you going to take these handcuffs off sometime soon?"

"Mmmm-"

Chekov clearly was set to go to sleep exactly where he was, and McCoy ended up falling asleep with his arms still pulled above his head. He probably wouldn't admit it the next morning, but McCoy enjoyed the sex almost as much as Chekov did. The only down side was the red marks around his wrist that he had to hide the next couple of days. But at least Chekov knew to let down McCoy's hands and bring lotion next time. And there would definitely be a next time.

* * *

**Author's note: Couldn't think of a funnier fetish for Chekov to have so I just went with a traditional one. Bondage is still popular in the future, guys, don't worry.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:****_  
Nearly three months in:_**

The Enterprise had just had a quite unfortunate encounter with an asteroid belt, and although Sulu was an excellent pilot, they didn't get out unharmed. An especially bad bump into an especially large asteroid sent the members of the Bridge flying. Chekov, in his normal seat beside Sulu, just so happened to go tumbling head first into the corner of a control panel. He slowly stood up, heard someone call his name, felt the room begin to spin, and passed out with a thud against the floor.

The next thing the Russian could remember was opening his eyes to see the familiar walls of Sick Bay. He let out a small groan and lifted his hand up to his head. He felt bandages wrapped tightly around his forehead and recoiled quickly as a sharp pain coursed through his head on contact with what must have been his injury. Just as soon as he had put his arm down, he saw McCoy run over to him.

"Pavel, you're awake! Oh thank the heavens above you're okay."

He looked into his lovers eyes and saw something he didn't think he would ever see. McCoy had tears in his eyes. He was grimacing to keep the water works from spilling down his cheeks.

"What happened, Doctor? How long have I been out?"

Everything was a bit fuzzy in Chekov's mind. He clearly wasn't recovered yet, as he struggling to keep only one McCoy in his vision.

"You took a bad fall on the Bridge. You've been out for nearly five hours now."

McCoy kneeled next to the bed Chekov was on and took hold of his hand, grasping it tightly between both of his.

"But, everything is going to be fine, darling. I promise"

He silently thanked everyone for being away from Sick Bay at this moment.

"Kiss me, Leonard," asked Chekov quietly, barely above a whisper.

But McCoy heard it loud and clear and leaned slowly into the weak Russian. He placed his lips lightly across Chekov's and focused on his lover's steady breathing. Reality was slowly becoming more focused for Chekov, especially with McCoy's delicate kiss. He noticed that he could feel something cold fall against his cheek. When the older man pulled away, Chekov could see the streams of tears falling down his face.

"Leonard, everything is going to be fine. You told me that! It was just a bump on the head."

A small smile came to McCoy's face as he wiped the tears from his face.

"I just couldn't stop thinking about what I would do if I lost you."

And then he said it. The words Chekov had wanted to hear for months. The words that solidified every feeling Chekov had experienced up to this point. The words that Chekov got to hear for the first time in his life. And the words that Chekov would repay with equally intense feelings.

"I love you, Pavel."

"I love you, too, Leonard."

McCoy was relieved that he finally said it. Being as comfortable with love as he was, McCoy knew that he couldn't really control it. If he felt it truly his mind would say it when the time was right. And this was definitely the right time. He laid a hand on the Russian's leg and slowly stroked in small, light circles.

The two stayed like this for a while. Chekov was certainly glad he had woken up when he did and that he wasn't so out of it that he would forget what happened. No, Chekov would never forget this moment. It was imprinted into his mind. How could the happiest thing someone has ever experienced not be imprinted into their mind? And what McCoy said next just made the moment even better.

"Jesus, how sappy was that?"

He had a silly grin on his face and was looking into Chekov's eyes.

Chekov gave a slight chuckle and responded, "Perfectly sappy."

* * *

**Author's note: Today's prompt was the first time they say they love each other. Sorry, it's pretty short. I'm working to make each chapter longer. Enjoy!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15:  
****_Six and a half months in:_**

Both Chekov and McCoy would admit that they took their relationship quite fast. There wasn't the awkward about touching stage, wasn't the too early for this stage, and certainly wasn't the get to know everything about your partner stage. That came much later. And it wouldn't have come unless McCoy had the revelation he did.

It was December 9th, which just so happened to be McCoy's brothers birthday. His brother, Daniel, was four years younger and a much cooler and collected person then McCoy was. He wasn't a member of Starfleet, but was a doctor. Apparently it ran in the family. While McCoy was eager to leave his home town in Georgia for most of his childhood, Dan clearly wasn't. Unlike McCoy, who doctored in space, Dan hadn't even left Georgia. He ran a local practice in the same town he had lived for his whole life. Regardless of their differences, McCoy loved his brother and was always a little sad that he couldn't see him or even call him on his birthday.

The revelation came while he was thinking about his childhood in Sick Bay. He realized that he knew absolutely nothing about Chekov's past or background. Chekov must have brought up his life before the Enterprise sometime. Despite the obvious fact that he was Russian, McCoy couldn't say that he knew anything else about his lover. He made it his mission today to find more out about Chekov.

So, when Chekov walked into the recreation room, McCoy quickly made his move. He tapped Chekov on the shoulder guiding him over to a table they could sit at together. There were about a dozen other people in the room, forbidding any real contact between the two, but for the most part everyone was oblivious to anything outside of their own bubbles.

As soon as they sat down, Chekov across the table from McCoy, the questions started.

"Did you know that today is my brother's birthday?"

As soon as McCoy said this Chekov's eye darted down and stared at the table.

"That's nice," he said with some forced enthusiasm. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"Yeah, his names Dan. He still lives back on Earth. He's got himself a nice wife and a little doctor's office."

Chekov, who was almost never quiet, was now suddenly silent. He fidgeted a bit in his seat and continued to stare at the table. So McCoy continued.

"What about you? Got any siblings?"

The Russian hesitated before answering, "I'd rather not talk about that now, okay?"

McCoy could tell something was wrong, but he wanted to know so he could comfort his lover.

"Look, Pav, we don't know anything about each other. I really have no idea who you actually are. I just want to get closer to you, that's all."

Chekov took a shaky breath mentally decided that McCoy was right. That he should tell him the problem.

"I did have a brother, N-Nikolai. He was ten years older than I was. We grew up together in a small town in Russia. We… we were best friends, despite our age differences. He always took such good care of me." Chekov paused before continuing. "He joined Starfleet when he was 17. Made remarkable progress, and by 19, he was making regular trips on _USS Immersion_. But on the day before his twentieth birthday he- his ship… had an- an accident and…"

Chekov had tears pooling up in his eyes. His bottom lip was quivering uncontrollably, and he didn't know if he could finish. McCoy grabbed his lovers hand under the table, slowly stroking the back of Chekov's palm with his thumb. This gave Chekov just enough strength to finish.

"We got the message less than a day later saying that Niki wouldn't be returning. I cried for a day straight and wouldn't leave my room for a week. I was only 10 years old. Less than a month later we left Russia and moved to America. I felt like I was abandoning Nikolai by moving, but soon realized that going somewhere new was just what I needed. I was able to recover from the shock and made it my goal in life to succeed my brother, do what he did and more. He was my inspiration to join Starfleet. I guess that if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have met you."

For the first time this conversation, Chekov looked up into McCoy's eyes. McCoy could see streams of tears running down the Russian's face. He squeezed Chekov's hand under the table.

"Your brother would be proud, Pavel."

This was the breaking point for Chekov. He couldn't take it anymore. The tears violently flowed out of his eyes and he struggled to choke back sobbing noises. He looked like he would collapse any second. McCoy softly grabbed his lover by the shoulders and guided him out of the rec room. He had an arm around Chekov's waist and led him to the Russian's quarters. He didn't care that crew members were giving him strange looks. His only concern was Chekov.

When they arrived at Chekov's quarters, McCoy delicately placed him on his bed and tucked a blanket tightly around him.

"Come here, Leonard." Chekov murmured.

McCoy joined his lover under the covers. He was facing away from McCoy, so the older man scooted over and pressed his body flat against the back of Chekov. He placed an arm around Chekov's body to rest against the front of his chest.

He leaned into the Russian's ear and whispered, "I'm sorry for making you recall those sad memories. But thank you for telling me."

Chekov rolled over to face McCoy and looked him straight in the eyes. He placed a hand on the doctor's strong chest.

"I love you so much, Leonard."

He pressed his forehead against McCoy's and McCoy responded, "I love you, too, Pasha."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:  
****_Three weeks before:_**

_Why am I even here?_ McCoy had been wondering this all night. Jim and Spock were off making diplomatic relations with the high council of this god-forsaken planet, which left the rest of the landing party, McCoy, Chekov, and three other crew members McCoy didn't know by name, to wander around wondering what to do next. McCoy understood that he had to be there in case of any injuries, but they had landed safely and had been greeted with hospitality. He knew everything was going to be fine. The only thing that made this mission bearable was the hotel bar, loaded down with all sorts of intergalactic drinks.

McCoy had just finished his third drink, the most exotic sounding bourbon julep he could find on the menu, and he was definitely feeling the buzz. It wasn't helping that Chekov was sitting just across the bar, his new "boy-toy" as McCoy had decided to call him, sitting just next to him. Sylus, that was his name, was part of the welcoming party that greeted the Enterprise crew that beamed down. Chekov had clamped down on him the second they were done with business.

Now they were at the bar, drinking, giving each other sexy looks and giggling. McCoy didn't know why he felt so opposed to what he was seeing. Chekov did this on pretty much every planet. Maybe it was just the drinks getting to McCoy's head. But then Sylus leaned in for a kiss, and Chekov put his hand across the boy's neck, and McCoy felt like there was a black hole in his stomach. McCoy put his forehead down on the bar and tried to calm his thinking down. He had never been attracted to Chekov before this. Well, maybe he had. All those times when Chekov had been in Sick Bay and McCoy felt a little dizzy for some reason. That must have meant something. And know that he thought about it, Chekov was pretty damn sexy. And that accent…

Suddenly, McCoy felt a hand on his back. He jumped and quickly turned his head. He looked up to see Jim standing over him.

"Oh good it's you Jim. Done with your diplomacy crap? Can we leave?"

Jim lifted an eyebrow, usually McCoy's thing, and glanced at the drink next to McCoy.

"How much of that have you had, Bones?"

"Not like you to worry about my drinking."

"Oh I'm not worried. I just want to catch up."

Jim smiled that goofy smirk of his and sat down next to McCoy. He ordered two of _"Whatever it is my friend here has"_ and then looked around the bar.

"Hey Bones, you seen Chekov and his new 'friend' over there? Jesus, he's only 18 and he's already a player. I feel a strange sense of pride."

McCoy groaned and mumbled "Don't remind me."

"Jealous, Doctor?"

"I just don't think he should throw himself at these horny one night stand boys. It's not good for him and he always mopes around the next day."

"Looks to me like Chekov is a horny one night stand boy, too."

Just as Jim said that, Sylus and Chekov ran out of the bar, Sylus leading Chekov by the hand.

"Anyways," Jim continued. "I think Chekov can take care of himself."

"You're the one who made a point of saying he was only 18."

McCoy took a last swig of his know fourth drink and excused himself from the bar, saying that all the alcohol was getting to him. And it really wasn't a lie. The edges of his vision had started to blur about fifteen minutes ago. He walked out of the bar and started toward his room.

As he reached for the doorknob of his room, McCoy paused. He turned his head and, several doors down, he saw Chekov curled up on the floor, crying into his knees. McCoy slowly walked over and kneeled down next to the Russian.

"Chekov," He said slowly, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Chekov looked up, his face red from crying, and sniffled.

"When I told Sylus that I didn't want to go any further he hit me and shoved me out of his room."

McCoy placed his hand on Chekov's chin and turned his face towards him. He gasped when he saw the bruise underneath Chekov's eye.

"That prostitute bastard." McCoy whispered mainly to himself but loud enough for Chekov to hear.

"My key is still in his room…"

McCoy softly grabbed Chekov's shoulders and led him into his own room. He placed Chekov on his bed and went to get his medical supply bag. He came back with some ointment.

"Let's get that bruise fixed up."

He rubbed the ointment on Chekov's cheek. It was cool to Chekov's skin and he winced when McCoy applied any pressure. But really he enjoyed the older man's touch. Chekov had never been attracted to an older man before, but McCoy was so gentle with him.

"Thank you, Doctor Sir."

"No problem at all."

Chekov glanced down at the floor and fidgeted his hands around before asking, "Could I – er – I mean if it's possible, would you… allow me to sleep in here, Sir?"

"Of course," McCoy found that his mouth responded much too quickly and eagerly then his brain would've liked. "You take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor."

"Thank you very much, Sir."

McCoy found it difficult to fall asleep when he knew that Chekov was right there in his room. He cursed his heart for whatever feelings he was having and then cursed the alcohol for enhancing them. He decided then and there that whatever things he felt toward the Ensign he would stuff deep into the pits of his mind. They would never work, would never become a thing. They just couldn't. He wasn't like that. So McCoy fell asleep ready to disregard everything that had happened that night. Chekov just so happened to fall asleep thinking precisely the opposite.

* * *

**Author's note: So this chapter takes place before their relationship starts. It's just a little pre-slash. Oh, and to McCoy: Good luck with that disregarded how you feel. Chekov is determined when he sets his mind to something.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:****_  
Five and a half months in:_**

Food is something that McCoy never really thought about much. It appeared to him periodically throughout the day, prepared and delivered by a yeoman. He ate it with purpose, not for pleasure. It was decent – certainly not bad, but probably not the best. He was after all on a spaceship. He didn't expect gourmet meals, in fact couldn't expect it because he had never had much better. Diana wasn't by any means a master chef and McCoy couldn't cook to save his life. So, McCoy ate his food on the Enterprise impassively and without a second thought.

Chekov, however, was different. Call it a guilty pleasure, but Chekov loved to cook. He very quickly learned where the top deck kitchen was and made friends with the yeomen who worked there. Often times he would sneak over to the kitchen on his breaks and cook himself a wonderful meal. It was a great stress reliever for him, and it thoroughly entertained the yeomen. But this was before he started spending his breaks with McCoy. Since then, Chekov hadn't been able to do much cooking.

So, when it came to Chekov's mind one day, he couldn't resist cooking up a romantic dinner for two. Simply for the sake of rewarding good behavior and because Chekov asked nicely, Jim let him off the Bridge two hours before his shift actually ended. Chekov rushed straight to the kitchen and set up at the kitchen station farthest from the rest. He normally had no problem with people watching him cook, but tonight he didn't want any question about what he was making. The rest of the yeomen looked busy preparing dinners, though, so he felt safe enough. He had an hour before McCoy got off duty, so he started promptly. He had originally wanted to cook a traditional Russian meal, but reconsidered it when he realized that McCoy must have pretty small food horizons. However no one could resist good Italian food. Spaghetti is was, then. The classic romantic dinner food.

Chekov felt at home over the space stove. It only took a few short minutes for the state-of-the-art appliances to perfectly cook the spaghetti and bake the garlic bread that went with it. By the time the food was done and plated, looking beautiful Chekov proudly noted, there was still 45 minutes before McCoy would be joining him.

He spent the next twenty minutes preparing his quarters for the dinner. He had a small table with a dark purple tablecloth draped over it set up in between his bed and the door. The wine, McCoy's favorite red wine, was sitting out on the table, ready to be popped open. Chekov had even gotten candles, not real ones – open flames weren't permitted onboard, but it was the thought that counted. He pulled it all together by dimming the lights, letting the candles spill their dreamy ambiance over the already romantic scene. The atomic clock by his bedside told him that there was still another 20 minutes before McCoy would arrive. Chekov let out an overdramatic sigh and sat down on his bed, letting his feet brush against the floor as he swung them slowly back and forth. Luckily, the heated plates meant the food wouldn't get cold, so there was no real problem with the time. Chekov's patience, however, was being tested.

After five minutes of staring at the clock, Chekov couldn't take it anymore. He hopped up and gleefully walked, almost skipped, to Sick Bay. He quickly spotted McCoy and walked up beside him.

"I have a surprise for you, Leonard. Please come quick." Chekov whispered.

McCoy raised an eyebrow and responded, "I'm still on duty, kid. Sorry, you'll just have to wait."

Chekov whined into McCoy's ear, somehow extremely sexy to the doctor. "But I've been waiting! Just ask the Captain. He let me off early."

"Fine, fine, if it's that important."

McCoy called down to Jim and got the okay the leave now. The Enterprise wouldn't be arriving at its destination for another couple of days, and nothing exciting had occurred on their pretty clear-cut mission yet. McCoy knew everything would be fine leaving a mere 15 minutes early.

Chekov let out a childish "Yes!" when McCoy was cleared to leave. He quickly led McCoy to his quarters walking at a much faster pace than usual. McCoy had trouble keeping up with the Russian by just walking. When they arrived at Chekov's quarters he stopped them outside at turned to look at his lover.

"I bet you're hungry, yeah?"

"I guess so. What does that have to do-"

Chekov cut the older man off by pulling him by the hand into the room. When McCoy saw the table, the food, the candles, all he could do was stand there, jaw opened wide. He was speechless on the outside, but inside his head was buzzing. Had Chekov honestly done this just for him? It was just about the most romantic thing anyone had done to him, and that included being proposed to. This was a spaceship, for god damn sake, it couldn't have been easy to do all this.

When McCoy could finally speak it was, "How did you pull this off, Pavel?!"

It came out harsher than he had intended so before Chekov could get the wrong idea he quickly added, "I mean it's positively amazing! Don't get me wrong, I love it but just… how?"

Chekov walked over to the table leading McCoy with him. When they had sat down, but not before McCoy had managed to close his gapping mouth, Chekov responded.

"It really wasn't very hard. Secretly – well not even secretly, I love to cook. This is the least I could do to show you how I feel."

McCoy felt a blush spread across his face and hoped the dim light covered it.

They promptly dug into their food. After a single bite McCoy exclaimed, "This is the best food I've ever tasted!"

Now was Chekov's turn to blush. A sheepish grin appeared on his face.

"It really wasn't very hard. Although it's good that you have some appreciation for fine dining."

"That's new for me. Never had food like this before."

McCoy reached a hand under the table and grabbed Chekov's knee. Chekov looked up into his lovers eyes and smiled. They ate the rest of their meal in mostly silence. Every now and then McCoy would make another comment about how this was the best thing he had ever tasted, and Chekov would shyly reply that it was no big deal. McCoy wasn't content until he had eaten every last scrap on his plate. When they had both finished, McCoy grabbed Chekov's hand across the table and let out a chuckle.

"This was fantastic, Pav. We've got to do this more often."

"Absolutely."

"I love you, Pavel."

"I love you, Leonard."

Chekov leaned across the table and McCoy met him halfway, their lips warmly embracing. Chekov let a hand find its way across McCoy's face to the back of his neck, while McCoy had a hand caressing Chekov's cheek. They moved out from the table and made their way to the bed.

That's where the story of that night will stop. Let's just say that the romance didn't stop there. But at the end of the night they drifted to sleep in each other's arms with full bellies and happy hearts.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 13:  
****_Three months in:_**

Chekov has been told all his life that he is an attractive person. He's spoiled in that sense, really. He is completely used to being flirted with, and is quite good at flirting back. Even when it comes to ladies. Just because he knows he isn't going to bed with them, doesn't mean he can't give the ladies some entertainment. Well, that all changed when he started a relationship with McCoy. He knew the flirting wouldn't stop, but his flirting back had to end.

McCoy will go through hell and back claiming that he is not a jealous person. Never had reason to be. Back where he grew up, flirting was something of a lost art, especially when you were married. But maybe things had changed with Chekov.

Jim had decided to take a bit of a break, not necessarily on Starfleet's okay, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity. They happened to be passing by a planet known for its wild night clubs. Jim invited anyone who wanted to come to beam down. Quite a reckless move, really, but no one was protesting. Well, Spock was protesting, but that was effectively the same as no one protesting to Jim.

Once all of McCoy's friends had beamed down they headed to the nearest bar. It was just going to be a guy's night – that is what they agreed on before going in. Although no one doubted that they would lose Jim halfway through the night. It was seven of them in total and they filled up the already crowded bar. Chekov was sitting on the outside edge of the group next to Jim, who separated him from McCoy. After their first drinks Jim pointed his empty bottle across the bar and said,

"Hey look at those girls over there."

McCoy responded, "Yeah, what about them?"

"I dunno, their just looking at us."

They were looking at them and giggling, too. In fact only a few minutes later they had made their way over to the guys. The girl out in front came over and tapped Chekov on the shoulder. She was glancing at everyone but her main focus lingered on Chekov.

Chekov looked over his shoulder and gave a polite smile.

"Oh, hello."

"Hi," She reached her hand out. "Kristi."

Chekov lightly grabbed her hand to shake it.

"What are you boys doing here tonight?"

"Having a guy's night."

"Very nice. Think you all might wanna come over to our place after the bar?"

"I don't think we can do that."

McCoy's face had flushed red as soon as they had come over. Chekov was managing this encounter without a single blush.

"We can have a little party...,"

"Sorry, girls, but we were going to head out after these drinks."

McCoy wanted desperately to reach over and claim Chekov for his own. But he knew he couldn't so he just sat clenching his fists.

"Well," the lady continued. "If you change your mind…"

She slipped a napkin with a hotel and room number scrawled on it and seductively turned away giving a last wink to whoever was looking. Well, Jim was certainly looking, in fact he hadn't taken his eyes off her for the duration of the conversation. He hastily grabbed the napkin and hurried off to catch up with the girls.

McCoy scooted over to where Jim had been sitting and placed and hand on Chekov's leg under the bar.

"Jealous, Doctor?" Chekov smirked.

"Of course not. I would've been jealous if you had flirted back."

"I think I handled that quite well."

"You certainly did."

McCoy gripped Chekov's leg under the table, eliciting a smile from the Russian's mouth. Maybe he had gotten a smidge jealous. But he certainly wouldn't admit that to Chekov anytime soon.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:  
****_Eight months in:_**

It was always in the back of McCoy's mind that one wrong move in his profession could result in a deadly disease consuming the ship. He was always working with diseases, experimenting and looking for vaccines and immunizations in his lab. He took every possible precaution to avoid getting himself or anyone onboard sick. Although every now and then he did get himself sick. And, along with being terrified that he had contracted a deadly disease, he was always embarrassed that he let it happen.

Chekov couldn't do much to help McCoy when this ended up happening. This was the first time he had seen McCoy sick over their entire time on the Enterprise together. As soon as symptoms starting appearing, fuzzy vision, dizziness, headaches, McCoy took as many readings as he could think to take, effectively scaring himself into thinking he was about to die. He grabbed as many needles and fluids as he could and rushed out of Sick Bay to his own quarters.

When he arrived and sat down, he felt guilty for running out so suddenly and called Jim at the Bridge over the com.

"Bridge this is McCoy. Hurry up and respond Jim."

"I'm here Bones. What is it?"

"I- I think I'm sick." He mumbled the last part, getting progressively quieter with each word.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm god damn sick!"

There was silence for several moments from Jim. Then he finally responded.

"Is it serious, Bones? Do you need someone to check on you?"

"I can take care of myself, Jim. Don't worry."

But really McCoy was worrying even more than Jim was. He hated being sick, hated not knowing what was wrong, and hated admitting it.

"I'm sending someone anyways. Just hold tight. Kirk out."

McCoy fell backwards onto his bed. He groaned at Jim's persistence to help. It should've been touching, but McCoy didn't want to see anyone right now, especially not someone he could potentially infect.

Just then there was a knock at his door. Normally the door would just slide open but McCoy happened to know how to get it to lock.

"Hello? McCoy?"

Oh no. McCoy could recognize that Russian accent anywhere.

"I volunteered to check on you when I heard your message."

"Go away, Chekov. I don't want you to catch whatever disease I have."

"At least tell me what is wrong."

McCoy sighed. He really didn't want to talk about his symptoms, but if it would make Chekov go away, he would.

"Well I have a headache, blurred vision… my temperature is several degrees higher than normal… I've already given myself an injection for the headache, one for the temperature… I think I might know what disease I have. I'm going to give myself the antidote for that…"

Chekov was silent for a few seconds.

"Pavel?"

"Leonard, do **not** inject yourself with anything else. I'm going to get someone."

"No! I can fix myself!"

But he could tell that Chekov was already off.

About five minutes later, his door opened up, much to McCoy's dismay, and in walked in Chekov followed by, of course, Spock.

"You brought the pointy-eared bastard?!"

Spock lifted his eyebrow in that annoying as hell smug expression he had perfected.

"You did not think that these doors could actually lock, did you Doctor? They can all be opened with the touch of a button."

McCoy scowled at the science officer and glanced over at Chekov with an equally displeased look. Chekov was awkwardly standing around in the corner of the room changing his point of focus between McCoy and the floor.

"What seems to be the problem, Doctor McCoy?"

"What would you now about this? Your blood isn't even the same color as mine! I'm the doctor on this damn ship!"

"Please calm down, Doctor. From what Ensign Chekov has told me, I am afraid you are suffering from hypochondriasis."

"Are you trying to tell me I'm not actually sick?! That it's all in my head!?"

"I am simply saying that all this treatment you have given yourself is quite over necessary. You could be enhancing your sickness by injecting so much into your body. You are making it worse by believing you have a terrible disease."

McCoy had to admit to himself that what Spock was saying did make sense. And well, it was pretty embarrassing. He was trained in this stuff, he shouldn't have overreacted like he did.

"I was just trying to make sure no one on board got sick, too."

"Understood, Doctor. I am going to confiscate all this medication you don't need. Take care of yourself the way you know is right, McCoy."

"Aye, Spock. Thanks…" McCoy mumbled it barely above a whisper, but Spock heard it.

Spock took the extra medicine and left McCoy with just the bare basics – the stuff that McCoy knew was the only things he needed to recover. Chekov was still awkwardly standing around and McCoy motioned him closer.

"Thanks Pavel. I can always count on you to take care of me."

"No problem, Leonard. I knew Mister Spock would be the only way to get you to cooperate."

Chekov chuckled when McCoy frowned at his comment.

"Now go away before I get you sick. I may not be as sick as I thought but I don't want to take any chances."

Chekov left and McCoy laid back on his bed for a nap.

The advanced medicine, when taken properly, worked almost magically and the next day McCoy was feeling fine. Well, he felt fine until he had to apologize to that pointy-eared bastard. But afterwards everything was fine, and McCoy made sure to always wear his gloves when working in his lab.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

"Chekov, you have the conn."

That one sentence is enough to make Chekov's insides jump with joy.

"Aye, Sir!"

This was what Chekov looked forward to everyday he spent on the Enterprise. Forget McCoy – this was way more important to Chekov. No matter what, his job always came first and this was the highlight of it. It used to make Chekov nervous, having so much responsibility, but know he craves it. Having so much control over the ship, singlehandedly directing where it goes, it made Chekov immensely happy.

He took a sort of pride in being so young and at the same time so talented. No one doubted his abilities, especially not Jim, so he received control of the conn quite often. It was like an adrenaline rush, yes, that's exactly how Chekov would describe it. His heart rate picked up and he couldn't help but let a smile spread across his face. Often times Sulu would look over and chuckle at his goofy grin. He just didn't understand how much receiving control meant to Chekov. It was like getting a temporary promotion that he got to receive over and over again.

He would never think of abusing the power having the conn, it never crossed his mind, but it did make him feel stronger. Like he could challenge anyone he wanted to and win. Maybe even the Captain…

Because, secretly, Chekov dreamed of one day being the captain of his own ship. He had a long way to go, needed more maturity and experience, but he could dream. So, maybe having control of the conn was so thrilling to Chekov because it made him feel that much closer to being captain.

McCoy's absolute favorite part of his job was when he was able to save a life.

"He's dead, Jim." McCoy said this way too often for his own comfort, and although it didn't seem like it, he felt terrible when he let a crew member die. Sometimes he would sit up at night thinking what he could've done different.

So, naturally, when he's saved someone's life, he feels amazing. He doesn't feel like the people he saves owe him anything, in fact, it's the exact opposite. He feels like when a crew member, or anyone who happens to be onboard the Enterprise, is sick or injured he owes them something. Doctoring being McCoy's job, he feels he owes it to patients to save their lives. So when he can accomplish this, it's like he has fulfilled his calling.

And he certainly sleeps soundly the next night knowing that another person is alive thanks to him.

* * *

**Author's note: Sorry this one is so short. It doesn't really have a place in the timeline because it's just a description of Chekov and McCoy and their favorite parts of their jobs. Enjoy :)**


End file.
